


Spoken (Aloud)

by kidcarma



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Death, Despair Era (Dangan Ronpa), Dialogue Heavy, Drabble Collection, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Requests, prompts from tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:55:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25809964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kidcarma/pseuds/kidcarma
Summary: Words are only said, and can never be unsaid.A collection of dialogue prompt requests. Kamukoma/Komahina centric
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, Kamukura Izuru/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 15
Kudos: 96





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! we are back w another series of prompt requests from tumblr. these will probably be a bit dialogue heavy since the prompts are quotes/dialogue this time around so! hope yall like dialogue. and the niche way i write these two.  
> 

58\. “I’ve been in love with you my entire life. Ever since the day I first met you.” | Kamukoma  
  


Komaeda is prone to going on these. Rambles.

Once he starts, he can’t stop himself, despite the fact that he knows Kamukura doesn’t care, finds his voice to be more and more grating with each passing second.

But Komaeda has to tell him. Even if he already knows. Has to reaffirm his worship, remind himself and everyone else- not like he could ever forget- that Kamukura is his everything. Will always be his everything. Far past the time he’s rotted and six feet under, (perhaps if Kamukura were the one to put him there, that would be the greatest gift of all) a part of him will always belong to Kamukura.

“I love you,” Komaeda says. A giddy whisper, and not because it’s a secret, but because he worries that if he speaks too loudly, he’ll be breaking some unspoken rule. “I’ve always loved you.”

He’s staring up at Kamukura from the foot of the bed, Kamukura propped up against the headboard.

“I’ve been in love with you my entire life. Ever since the day I first met you.”

“Which is it, then?”

Ah?

Kamukura never responds to these kinds of things. In all the time Komaeda has spent waxing poetic, his muse had found it far more preferable to keep his mouth shut. It didn’t matter. It never mattered. Everything Komaeda could, and would say, Kamukura already knew and therefore saw no purpose in indulging, besides an ‘I know,’ if he was feeling particularly gracious. So why, now-

“Have you been in love with me for your entire life, or since the day you met me? It cannot be both. That would be contradictory.”

“Ah, of course,” Komaeda grins. He lifts himself slightly, head up and eyes alight as he speaks. “It is true I have not known you for my entire life but… ever since I was born, I have been groomed to serve you! To love you. From day one, that was my purpose. The world built me for you! And then, the day we met, I felt as if I finally understood. Does that make sense, Kamukura?”

“Mmm.”

“Now, I know I’m not much,” Komaeda’s laugh is short, weak, a self deprecating rush of air. “That you deserve more than me. I wish fate had made me better for you. Your hope shines so brightly I- I would do anything for you.”

“I know. You tell me every day.”

13\. “I could kiss you right now!” | Kamukoma

Komaeda always seeks to entertain him. Even if it is a pointless gesture.

To catch him by surprise. To defy the expectations of fate, predictability- the most interesting thing about Komaeda Nagito is his luck, and perhaps, his devotion to serving hope even in despair.

Be it far better for the rest of the world for him to be trailing after Kamukura.

“I could kiss you right now! That would certainly be unpredictable, right Kamukura?”

“No,” Kamukura doesn’t grant Komaeda the acknowledgment of even looking in his direction, over his shoulder. “You have just ruined the inherent unpredictability by voicing the suggestion aloud. I would anticipate it, now.”

“Ah,” Komaeda sighs. Grinning, but still dejected. “Of course. Leave it up to me to ruin things. I’m sorry Kamukura. I really am such a failure.”

“It is not your fault. I am bored by everything.”

“Is there really nothing that would take you by surprise?” Komaeda pushes. Tries to catch up, closes the few paces between them, tripping on his own feet as he does. Kamukura doesn’t slow for him, but doesn’t object when Komaeda has settled into a steady pace by his side either. “A sudden explosion? An ambush? A storm on an otherwise clear day?”

They’re frivolous suggestions. They all have their own tells. Nothing is truly unpredictable, but Kamukura doesn’t voice as such. Just keeps walking.

“I could attack you right now.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“But I could!” Komaeda protests. If Kamukura dignifies him with a sideways glance, he sees eyes alight and swirling. Some sort of satisfaction with the idea that he might finally have something to surprise Kamukura, but at what cost?

“But you wouldn’t. It does not matter if you could. You wouldn’t.”

And really, Kamukura is right. Kamukura is always right. As much as Komaeda might like to protest, he knows deep down that nothing could convince him to betray Kamukura like that, even for the sake of fleeting unpredictability. He wouldn’t. But he knows someone who would. Who has. And he doesn’t want to be like the one he despises.

Kamukura’s ‘you wouldn’t’ is final, so Komaeda keeps his mouth decidedly closed, no longer trying to grasp at strings. Steady in his pace to stay at Kamukura’s side as they continue to walk. To where, he hasn’t bothered to ask.

A few beats of the crunching gravel beneath their feet pass until Kamukura halts, accepting the sudden press of Komaeda’s lips against his own.

Komaeda kisses him with purpose, conviction, eager and clinging onto the hope of taking him by surprise.

“Did that do it?” Komaeda asks once he finally pulls away. Still close enough for the air of his breath to wash over Kamukura’s mouth as he speaks.

“No.”

“But I thought-“

“You thought that in kissing me, you would be unpredictable, as I was meant to believe it was an idea you had already discarded when I dismissed it the first time. That in doing something I claimed would be predictable, in an attempt to surprise me, you would defy my expectations,” Kamukura’s words are even, cold, cutting right through him. Komaeda shudders. “You did not.”

8\. “Were you ever going to tell me?” | Kamukoma

When she dies, the laugh that tears from him is ugly, desperate- Not that his laughs aren’t normally ugly, because they are, and the others have no issue with reminding him, but this one is some special unholy cocktail of relief and regret and jealousy and anger and hope and despair and

Well. He had wanted to be the one to kill her.

Burning with the impulsive itch to do something after having that chance ripped away from him. A carpet tugged out from under his feet and falling and slamming his skull into the ground- it was too late. Fitting, he’s not really worthy enough, but by god, had he wanted it.

Komaeda stares blankly at the tv display. Spattered remains, human viscera under a block, and the sight fuels something within him. Walks out of the building when he can finally manage to shake off the shock (and Kamukura just lets him leave- watches him go, even. Silent, stoic as always and knowing, knowing everything).

The others must have had the same idea, too, he realizes. Because by the time he reaches her corpse, it’s already been tampered with. A missing eye. A neat incision across her lower stomach. They beat him to it, and that’s alright- (figures they were bound to, anyhow. Kuzuryuu has a whole clan behind him and it would certainly be no issue for him to acquire a car. He hadn’t even offered Komaeda a ride but) nothing more fitting for him than the rotting, sloppy seconds, he supposes.

It’s only after her hand is sewn on in place of his, does Komaeda realize what he’s done.

Despair is a nice little blanket, a haze, a curtain addicting agony as he had driven the needle in and out and in and out and in but now.

He can’t go back to Kamukura like this. He had been a poor excuse for a servant in the first place and now, now he’s damaged goods. Now he’s tainted himself with the very flesh of despair and Kamukura deserves far better than to be in his presence. When he’d set out, he had fully intended to come back but now, staring down at the ugly jagged stitches across his wrist, slumped over in a pile of blood,

Is it selfless? Selfish? To stay away?

He does anyway.

So when they’re guiding him onto the ship, and he meets those red eyes that he hasn’t seen all this time, the ones he had run away and hidden himself from in cowardice, does he crumble.

“You are still alive,” Kamukura observes aloud, staring down to where Komaeda has sunken to his knees on the deck.

“I am.” Komaeda doesn’t want to speak, but he’s never been good at ignoring Kamukura.

“You ran away that day. You surprised me. I believed fully that you would return.”

“I meant to- I-“

“Were you ever going to tell me? Or did you intend for me to think you dead, all this time.”

Komaeda inhales.

“Would it have mattered?”

“No,” Kamukura steps past him. “I suppose not.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u all for waiting ever so patiently for this update... things have been Going On in my life and im also experiencing a bit of a creative block but i hope u enjoy these!

50\. “I need you to forgive me.” | Komahina

“I-” 

“What, Komaeda?”

“I need you to forgive me.”

It’s a simple enough request. One Hinata has granted him many times over, in fact. From every minor slip up- hands that shook just a touch too much to hold a mug properly, pieces of glass scattered across the floor- to the more serious, sharp words laced with poison that burned as they pierced him, spilling from Komaeda’s mouth that he would never be more than a lowly reserve student, with the intent to hurt-

But there’s something about it this time that makes Hinata grit his teeth, and staring level at Komaeda he can see the shift in the other’s expression when the relinquishment doesn’t come easy, doesn’t come immediately, like some part of him deep down had been expecting it, despite how much he’s convinced himself he doesn’t deserve it. And that only irritates Hinata more. 

“You know what? No.” 

“What?”  
Komaeda’s lips are pulled up into a painful, thin smile, stretched too far across his teeth and it looks like he’s in pain. 

He probably is. 

“You don’t need me to forgive you, Komaeda.”

“Yes, I do, Hinata-kun.”

“No,” Hinata spits. “You don’t. You don’t need. You’ll keep living, even if I don’t accept your apology.”

“Hahahaha,” Komaeda buckles. Does that thing where his fingers latch desperate onto the fabric of his sleeves, and he pulls his arms closer into his body. “Oh, but I feel like I might just die!”

“Enough with that shit, seriously.” And Hinata’s frowning. “My word isn’t… god,” he tells Komaeda and immediately realizes the irony in his statement, but keeps talking over the pause in hopes that Komaeda won’t cut him off. “Sometimes you upset me, and that’s just the way it works, Komaeda, but it’s unfair for the both of us, for me to just say I forgive you, when I don’t. You understand that, right? You deserve more than to define your existence from one person’s opinion. Komaeda, I feel obligated to compromise my feelings for the sake of your sanity. That’s not right.”

“Oh, Hinata-kun should never feel obligated to lie to scum like me in order to make me feel better!”

“But I do,” Hinata presses, jabbing his finger into Komaeda’s chest and it makes Komaeda stumble backward far more dramatically than necessary. “Because I don’t like it- seeing you sad.” 

“I don’t understand.”

Right.   
Hinata bites back a sigh. He isn’t really sure what he expected to come out of this with, anyways. Perhaps the thought of getting it through Komaeda’s thick skull had only been a fantasy. Of course he doesn’t understand. 

But it’s okay. 

“Whatever.” Hinata waves his hand dismissively, watches the confusion roll over Komaeda in the way his body language shifts, loosens the grip on his arm as Hinata’s scowl dissipates slightly. The anger, the frustration is still there, but. “Let’s just go.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t forgive you,” Hinata clarifies. “But you’re sorry, and there’s no use fighting about it. So, let’s just go.”

“Ah,” Komaeda says, more as an acknowledgement than anything else because he still doesn’t understand. Feels a rush of nausea and self loathing as Hinata reaches over to take his hand, skin on skin as he begins to walk away, tugging Komaeda with him because Komaeda doesn’t deserve this. Doesn’t deserve this because Hinata hasn’t forgiven him. But he won’t be so selfish, to ask again, for something Hinata doesn’t want to give.

90\. “I don’t want to think about what I’d be like without you.” | Kamukoma

“Humor me.”

The thrumming of the rain against the asphalt outside is so deafening, that Komaeda almost misses those two simple words. But they’re so close- _too_ close, for him to have missed it, with the way his eyes are trained on Kamukura’s lips, even in the low light, his voice a wash of air against Komaeda’s mouth.

“Of course.”

He’ll humor Kamukura. Always does. Always will. It’s not as though there’s much else to do here anyway, shacked up in the little shelter they’d hastily pulled together to ride out the storm- slinging a tarp up over the corner their mattress is pushed into, stacking up sandbags in front of the doorway to keep the water from flooding the space between the four walls they call home.

Komaeda shifts- gently, oh so gently- as to not disturb Kamukura, the way Kamukura is cradling his face with both hands, palms against Komaeda’s clammy cheeks, he dares not even speak too loudly in fear of shattering the moment.   
A shudder wracks through him as Kamukura’s thumb traces the line of a scab on his temple, one he got from being clumsy, and in response, Kamukura pulls the threadbare blanket tighter around the both of them, his hands momentarily leaving Komaeda’s face, who whines under his breath. Of course, Kamukura knows better than to mistake the shudder for one born of the cold. Despite the way Komaeda’s back is pressed up against the concrete wall, hard and chilling, even through the layers of his clothing, it’s almost impossible to feel anything but warm and _flustered_ when they’re in such close proximity like this. 

“Where do you think you would be right now, had you not chosen to follow me?” Kamukura poses him with the question, brings his thumb up to rest on the pout of Komaeda’s lower lip. “Somewhere dry? Somewhere comfortable? Or somewhere waterlogged and shivering?”

“Ha,” Komaeda laughs, short and amused. “I’d certainly be lost in the streets, like a drowned, abandoned dog! It’s thanks to Kamukura’s luck and benevolence that I have somewhere to stay at all.”

“But surely you’re not entirely incapable on your own,” Kamukura tilts his head. Komaeda can feel those red eyes burning into him, tracing the lines and features on his face. “You’d be somewhere. Just not here.”

“But I am here,” Komaeda grins, leaning into the touch. “With you.”

“Do you not wonder about the paths of fate which have already been discarded?” Kamukura mumbles. “The outcomes that were simply just not meant to be? Where would _I_ be, if not here? And who would I be with? Would you, perhaps, have found someone else to serve? Would you be just as dedicated, just as loyal, to someone other than me?”

“I-” Komaeda’s breath catches in his throat. He knows well that Kamukura is mostly rambling to himself now- it’s what often follows the request of ‘humor me’. But it still unnerves him all the same. “I don’t want to think about what I’d be like without you.”

Kamukura blinks.

“Of course.” The acknowledgement is soft, and Komaeda thinks that Kamukura nods, though if he does, the action is barely detectable. And a nod is far less important than the way Kamukura leans forward then, brushes his mouth against the corner of Komaeda’s lips, could almost be a kiss but he doesn’t linger long enough for it. “Of course. You are here with me. And that is what matters.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> character death warning

45\. “I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” + 6. “You can’t die. Please don’t die.” | Kamukoma

The moment Komaeda’s eyes snap open, a white hot panic floods his body. He jolts, inhales sharply, and sits up, but the movement is too sudden and it sends his head spinning. He has to sit there waiting, waiting, heart beating up into his throat, so loud it’s drowning his thoughts out- save for the one that’s ringing true in every fiber of his being, one that could never be snuffed out: _find Kamukura_ (he thinks he’d be drawn to Kamukura no matter how far apart the world was determined to keep them)- waiting until the dark spots clear from his vision and he’s able to stumble up on two legs and start walking. 

Find Kamukura. 

Find Kamukura. 

Surely, he can manage that. 

It makes sense to seek him out. Kamukura is the only solid thing tethering Komaeda to here and now- Komaeda is certain he would have drifted away, and withered into nothingness by now, if he didn’t have Kamukura to cling to. It’s why he’s never been so sure of something, through the tunnel vision and adrenaline coursing through his sickly, good for nothing body, he’s going to find Kamukura. 

He has to. There’s just no other option. 

Pulling in a shuddering breath that rattles his lungs, Komaeda squints into the darkness- the yelp he lets out is cut short, his foot catching on _something_ (whatever it is, doesn’t matter. He’s probably the one that left it there, too- an incompetent servant, can’t even keep their room tidy) and it sends him careening into the ground again. A muffled whimper into the floor, he ignores the throbbing in his ankle and starts crawling. The image plastered to the back of his eyelids is more than enough motivation to keep moving forward. 

The image of Kamukura, sprawled limbs and bleeding out.

Muddy red staining the nice white fabric of his button down. 

Komaeda hiccups. Blinks away his tears. 

“How pathetic,” he tries to wheeze, but the first syllable dies on his tongue. How pathetic to be crying over a nightmare. How pathetic he is, needing to crawl into Kamukura’s arms and be coddled like a child. 

There’s only a sliver of moonlight to guide him, but finally, _finally_ he’s fumbled his way through the dark, he knows when his trembling hands have found home in Kamukura’s hair. 

Running his fingers through it- he’s selfish, he can’t help it- he mutters a “Kamukura?” the name a desperate plea on his tongue as he hovers over the other. 

Kamukura shifts. Takes a deep breath in, his eyes fluttering open and staring up at Komaeda from where he’s laying, is silent for a moment before he speaks.

“Yes?”

“Oh thank goodness,” Komaeda breathes, deflating, some of the tension running out of his shoulders and he’s even so indulgent to let the ghost of a smile touch his lips. Normally he’d be intent on berating himself for disturbing Kamukura’s rest, but his mind can’t focus on anything other than being grateful. “I- I just,” he sniffles. “I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 

“Is that so?” Kamukura asks, not even protesting as Komaeda continues to pet his hair- he must really be feeling generous tonight. That, or Komaeda is just extra pathetic, and the recipient of Kamukura’s pity. 

“Silly, isn’t it?” Wiping away tears with the thick of his palm, Komaeda shakes his head- mostly at himself- white curls falling into his face as he leans down and presses his forehead against Kamukura’s own. Lets a sob wrack his body as he feels Kamukura’s hand cup his cheek in return. “That I’m reduced to tears over a nightmare. That you have to comfort your servant.” 

“Fear is a natural response,” Kamukura gives him. “As is denial.” 

“Denial?”

Kamukura shifts underneath him. His breathing is much more shallow than Komaeda remembers it being. 

“You will be fine when I’m gone,” is the next thing Kamukura says, and it’s not nearly as comforting as it should be. “My absence will sadden you, but in time, you will move on.”

“Hahaha,” Komaeda chuckles, a pained smile overtaking his features as his eyes begin to burn again. Kamukura’s free hand encircles around his wrist, and begins to tug it downward. “Kamukura isn’t making any sense.” 

When his hand is forced to make contact with the sodden, wet, warm material of Kamukura’s button down, a thin layer of fabric separating him from the skin of Kamukura’s abdomen, his eyes widen. The way the air catches in Komaeda’s throat chokes him, and he seizes, isn’t going to look down at his fingers in fear of finding them stained red. 

“Do you understand?” Kamukura murmurs. “You are to keep living, even after I’m dead. That’s an order.” 

No. 

“No.” Komaeda shakes his head again. Swears under his breath because tears are clouding his vision- the last fleeting glance of Kamukura’s alive face he’ll ever get. “No. You can’t die. Please don’t die.” 

The grip on Komaeda’s wrist slackens. Desperately he cups Kamukura’s face and can’t bring himself to care about the way he’s smearing blood across his cheeks. 

“Please. Don’t do this to me, Kamukura.” 

“Do you understand, Nagito?” 

“I-“ Silent tears drip down. “Yes. I understand.” 

Kamukura tips his head up. Presses a kiss to Komaeda’s mouth. 

“Good,” he mutters. 

And then he goes still. 

For a moment, all Komaeda can do is stare. 

And then, kneeling on the cold, concrete floor, sobs shake his body until he has nothing left to give, and he collapses in a heap. Rests his head on Kamukura’s shoulder, and resigns himself to falling asleep. 

Once he wakes up from this nightmare, it will be fine.


End file.
